


The Masterpiece Of Nature

by HeartOfStars



Series: A Parent's Heart [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Peter Parker Survives the Snap, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfStars/pseuds/HeartOfStars
Summary: In which Infinity War isn't completely terrible, and the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man survives the Snap.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange
Series: A Parent's Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663087
Comments: 3
Kudos: 148





	The Masterpiece Of Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azalea_Scroggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azalea_Scroggs/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Azalea_Scroggs!

Ashes fell on a dead world. 

It was fascinating to watch; fascinating, and terrible, and horrifying. Fascinating because it looked like something straight out of an old movie, like  _ Apocalypse Now  _ or something. Beautiful, visceral. Something out of a dream, or a nightmare. 

It was terrible, because Tony could still feel the awful,  _ awful  _ impact of that moon crashing into him, driving his systems crazy--of being thrown into the ground, crushed, feeling like he was being suffocated, his lungs collapsing in on themselves and being unable to breathe. Terrible, because the ashes from that destroyed moon were what rained down now, covering the ground like a thin layer of snow. 

And horrifying, because those moon ashes were mixed in with the dust of that alien girl--no, no, her name, damn it, he had to remember who she was,  _ Mantis-- _ the ashes mixed with the dust that Mantis had vanished into. Just like she was nothing. 

Seconds before, the wound in Tony’s side had been agonizing, terrible, almost all that was on his mind besides, oh, losing to Thanos and watching Strange give the damn Time Stone away. 

Now it was nothing.

Now it didn’t even matter. 

“Quill?” 

Drax. 

No, Tony thought, turning in horror to look at the bare-chested alien--who he’d dismissed, who he’d  _ rolled his eyes at  _ earlier. Drax, who he’d silently said to himself was useless. 

Now he was possessed by a need for Drax to not die, to not  _ vanish into-- _

Quill reached toward Drax. Lost. Terrified. 

They were friends. 

And Drax crumbled. 

And Drax was gone. 

_ From dust you have come.  _

“Oh, man.”

No. No. No. The word repeated, over and over, in Tony’s head, as thunder  _ boomed  _ overhead and ashes fell. 

“Steady, Quill,” he said, spinning to look at him--another one,  _ another one  _ he’d insulted, dismissed as annoying, but in the end they really had a lot in common. Quill was human, Quill had a great sense of humor--

_ I’d like to take him out for a drink,  _ Tony had thought, two hours ago. It was the story about the dance-off to save the universe, that’s what had done it. 

He didn’t know why. Quill was just more unique than most people he’d met. 

Terror. That’s what was in Quill’s eyes--

And then dust. 

Ashes. 

_ And to dust you shall return.  _

Tony didn’t know where to turn, now, where to look. His head was spinning,  _ he  _ was spinning. 

The question was no longer,  _ What the hell is happening?  _

The question was,  _ Who’s next?  _

“Tony.”

Strange. Stephen Strange, that’s who was next. 

Tony couldn’t even say anything, just turned to look at him in dread. Nothing had happened, not yet; but the guy was some kind of wizard. 

He was looking right at Tony. He wanted to tell him something. 

_ Why’d you give up the Time Stone?  _ Tony wanted to scream at him.  _ Why did you give up the goddamn Time Stone?  _

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t say anything. 

And still, Strange seemed to understand what Tony was thinking. He shook his head, sorrow in those dark, knowing eyes. 

“There was no other way,” he whispered. 

Liar. 

Of course there was  _ another way,  _ Strange could’ve let Tony die. Tony was  _ supposed to die,  _ he had thrown himself in front of everyone at every possible moment, taken every hit, he’d gone on the ship into space so he would die and everyone else would live, and if that had happened then Thanos wouldn’t have gotten the Time Stone, they would’ve  _ won-- _

Strange looked down, then; straight ahead. Taking deep breaths. 

Accepting. 

_ No.  _

Dust. 

_ No, no, why is it you? Why the  _ hell  _ is it you? You were the best of us, even though I hated you for most of it, you  _ knew what you were doing! 

But he didn't say anything. 

It was pointless. It wouldn't bring anyone back. 

Something deep down told Tony that whether Strange had given up the Time Stone or not, Thanos still would’ve gotten it. Thanos would have won either way. 

But Tony didn’t want to accept it. 

He wanted to die. 

Maybe it still would. Maybe this awful curse of death would come for him, too.

But somehow he doubted it. Strange had given Thanos the Time Stone  _ on the proviso  _ that Tony live. 

So he would have to live. That was his curse, to live and to watch everyone else die. 

He hated Strange more than ever. 

And of course he hated Thanos. But that went without saying. 

Mantis. 

Drax. 

Quill. 

And Nebula, where was--

She was still there. Still alive. Sitting, by herself, as ashes fell and mingled with the dust that had been the Guardians. Thanos’ daughter, watching the aftermath of what her father had done. 

“He did it,” she said, “he really did it. After everything we tried, he did it.” She sighed. “Gamora’s death was a mercy. She didn’t have to see it.”

Then she froze.

Tony started toward her. Reached out. 

She crumbled into dust.

\--Nebula, to add to the list. 

And Strange. 

And--

“Mr. Stark?”

_ The kid.  _

Peter Parker, the kid, he’d forgotten about him in all the chaos--Tony’s thoughts whirled and ice pooled in his stomach as he turned to look at the last person standing. 

Peter Parker, the kid he’d sworn to protect. Who he had never, ever,  _ ever  _ wanted in harm’s way. 

The only one left. 

Peter was confused, terrified; Tony could see it in the way his hands were shaking, just slightly, in the way he looked around and around, in the way his lip trembled, in the wideness of his eyes. 

But nothing was happening. Why was nothing happening?

“Peter,” Tony said, stumbling towards him, clambering over the rocks. “Pete, you’re okay.” 

It was a question. He needed to know. 

“Mr. Stark--” He was so young, he was only  _ sixteen,  _ and the horror in his face made it all too apparent. “Mr. Stark, I don’t--what’s happening?”

“I don’t know, kid, I don’t know.” Tony looked Peter over, eyes roaming every inch of him for the first vanishing limbs, for any kind of dust. There was none; but Peter had his Spider senses, they’d tell him  _ before  _ anything happened, and he had to be alive,  _ he had to.  _

_ Please be alive.  _

_ Please be alive.  _

Tony crossed the remaining space between them in seconds, ignoring how it pulled at his side; that didn’t matter.  _ Nothing mattered _ but this. He needed Peter to be alive, for the kid’s sake, because he was so young...and for his  _ own  _ sake. Because he’d tried, he’d tried  _ so damn hard  _ to be there for Peter, who didn’t have any kind of father figure; he’d tried to be a better man than Howard in the only way it mattered. 

That’s what it was, Tony realized, that’s what was going on here. He’d struggled with it for so long, didn’t know  _ what  _ he was feeling, didn’t want to admit he cared about Peter like a son, like  _ his son,  _ but he couldn’t deny it any longer. 

Because Peter was still shaking, still looking at him--the picture of terror. 

Because Peter might die. 

Because Peter might be the only chance at a kid that Tony ever got. 

“Kid, look at me.” Tony grabbed both of Peter’s arms desperately, made him look him in the face. “Are you--do you--” 

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t finish it. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said again, his voice quivering. “Did--did Thanos--”

“Yeah. Yeah, kid, he won, they’re dead--” Tony tightened his grip, unaware that with the suit still on him the action was probably hurting Peter. “What I’m trying to find out is--” He choked on dust and ashes. “ _ Are you okay?” _

Tony’s own voice was shaking, he realized, and damn it he just  _ needed to know-- _

“Am I--” Peter looked confused again; he moved his arms, and Tony let go, but didn’t stop staring at the kid, taking in his bright, innocent face, memorizing every detail of him just in case. “Am I…” He blinked. “I--I don’t know, I think I’m okay? I don’t feel anything. I mean, other than that my ribs hurt from when Thanos threw that moon, and I had to grab some of the Guardians, and then he hit me with the...the red Infinity Stone, I forget what it’s called and I fell hundreds of--”

Tony barely even felt himself move, his brain hadn’t even registered what his body was doing as he grabbed Peter and pulled him against his chest in a hug. 

Screw everything else, the kid had survived. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter mumbled against him. “What--what are you doing?”

Tony didn’t answer. Usually he had something to say, he had a joke, an explanation, but not now. Now there was nothing. There was only the feel of  _ Peter Parker  _ under his hands, alive, and well, and  _ whole,  _ and for once in his wreck of a life nothing was going to stop him from showing he cared. 

_ Last night I dreamt that...we had a kid.  _

Slowly, Peter’s faster breathing grew slower, and he stopped shaking. 

And then, miraculously, Tony felt Peter’s arms slide around him in return. 

_ It was so real.  _

Somehow, Peter had survived. Peter was still there, he was still alive; there was still light and innocence in the world. 

Everything was  _ not  _ terrible. 

Well, technically it was. They’d lost. He and Peter were millions of miles away from Earth, with only a ship that neither of them knew how to fly, and with no way of knowing who on Earth was dead. It could be anyone: Bruce. Rhodey. Happy. Pepper. Or none of them at all. They had no way of knowing. 

But what he  _ did  _ know was that Peter Parker had survived. 

There was one tiny ounce of goodness left in the world. 

Peter mumbled something, and Tony pulled back, but still held onto one of his arms. 

If Peter wasn’t really alive, if he disappeared right now, Tony wanted to feel the kid until he was gone. 

“Mr. Stark--” Peter looked absolutely confused, but no longer terrified. “What--what was that about?”

“Well, kid, I--” Tony swallowed. He could do it, he could do it.  _ Just say it.  _ “I…” It was the ashes, they were getting in his nose and he couldn’t talk. “Because I care about you.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Oh.” 

_ Oh, God, no, I knew I shouldn’t have said it,  _ Tony thought immediately.  _ He doesn’t need this, the whole world’s falling apart and he wants to know what happened to his aunt-- _

“Well, I…” Peter ran a hand through his hair and then--then he smiled. To think anyone could still smile in the middle of all this. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. You know, I care about you, too.” 

Tony did a double take. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to say anything more with all these damn ashes making his eyes water, because even during Armageddon Peter was a chatterbox.

“You--you know, my dad’s been dead for years,” Peter said, “and so’s my uncle, and I don’t know--” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I hope my aunt’s alive. I--I really--”

“So do I, kid.”  _ And Pepper, too.  _

But at least Peter, his mind kept saying on repeat, like a bad record. At least Peter was alive. 

“Why, though?” The question was completely innocent, and so was the look in Peter’s eyes. “I’m just your--” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “I’m just your intern.” 

“Because I--” Those damn ashes.  _ Tell the truth, Stark, just tell the truth.  _ “Because you’re the only person keeping me...keeping me  _ sane,  _ kid.” 

“Oh.” Peter gave him a shy smile, wiping the tears from his eyes. “That’s a lot of responsibility, Mr. Stark, I don’t know if I can handle that.” 

“It’s not on you, kid. It’s just me. But it’s...it’s true.” Tony’s hand lingered on Peter’s arm as he wondered what to do and then-- _ oh, screw it.  _ He brought Peter into a one-armed hug, tucking him against his uninjured side. “So I’ve...I’ve gotta make sure you’re around, for my sake. Got it?”

Peter smiled. “Got it, Mr. Stark.” 

They stood there, Tony’s arm around Peter and Peter’s arm around him, watching as the ashes fell. 

It was fascinating to watch. 

**Author's Note:**

> "The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature.”― Prevost Abbe


End file.
